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  • Vicky Walter

Deliver Me

Warning, this is terribly raw and honest.


I didn't grow up playing with baby dolls and dreaming of being a mother. I don't know why. I played what I called "office." I pretended that I owned my own business and I was a writer of stories. The day came when I held my firstborn in my arms for the first time, everything changed. I fell in love. I wanted to be this baby boy's mom forever. I wanted to be the perfect mom. I was so protective. I didn't let anyone hold my baby. I didn't know how to be a mom, but I was determined to be the best mom with every child I had. Protecting my babies was my priority. I read about how to be a good mom. I watched other mothers and how they did things. Unfortunately, some of what I learned (or learned incorrectly) caused me to raise my children in fear. I was terrified they would experience the rejection and pain I had during my life. I knew who would protect them and I was sure they would know Him like I did, so I taught or forced everything God on them. My intensions were pure. Jesus had rescued me from my self destruction a few years before I became a mom. My experience was so powerful, there was no denying it's reality. At that moment, I was smitten with love for Him. I no longer was enslaved to destructive habits, but I still needed so much healing in my soul. After all these years, I am surprised there are still more layers of healing needed that I didn't even know existed. I still fail all the time. Not terrible and obvious sins, but things like relationships. I'm terrible at them, especially if they are challenging. Those are the ones that bring back fears from my childhood and I walk, no, I run away or I cry. I can handle conflict all day long with everyone except with the ones I love. I don't know why it's so hard for me. I'm working on receiving healing for that, but this is a tough one. This video makes me cry every time I watch. The mother watching her son in so much pain. She would die for him, no question. I have also felt like the beaten prostitute at the feet of Jesus when He rescued me. Sometimes I still do. I imagine she didn't have any real friends and her family probably rejected her. I imagine she felt so alone and afraid when she reached out to Jesus unsure of His reaction. The thing is, no one has ever loved me like Jesus. No one has ever forgiven me for all my screw-ups like Jesus. He doesn't ever remind me about them, either. I love Him more than anyone else because how much and how good He loves me. He's precious, powerful and my friend. I can trust Him. He will never hurt me or lie to me or be unfaithful to me. I can't say that about anyone I know. Can you? If you can, that's great, but I promise you, He still loves you better and more than anyone can.

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